


Splish Splash

by SomeDumbGuy



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst without plot, Gen, Heavy Angst, Heavy Drinking, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt Tony Stark, Not A Fix-It, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Pre-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Suicide, Tony-centric, Unhappy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-15
Updated: 2018-10-15
Packaged: 2019-08-02 08:45:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16301906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SomeDumbGuy/pseuds/SomeDumbGuy
Summary: Ever since the Civil War fiasco, Tony's been having a difficult time of it.A literary version of sour candy.





	Splish Splash

**Author's Note:**

> It's so easy to be mean to poor Tony, He's just made for it.  
> Here is my next attempt at writing. I'll probably hold off for a while after this one.
> 
> In fact, I'm a little unnerved by this one. I'm going to have to take a break from the angst fests.

_Splish splash, I was taking a bath_  
 _Long about a Saturday night, yeah_  
 _A rub dub, just relaxing in the tub_  
 _Thinking everything was alright_  
Bobby Darrin ~ Splish Splash

_**Wednesday March 28th** _

“Thanos… Is coming” 

Dr. Stephen Strange glanced at Wong then back to the half naked figure buried in his stairs.

“Who?” 

This was the start of a long explanation which ended with them searching for Tony Stark and finding the headline on a paper draped over a sleeping man in Central park.

**Tony Stark, Resident of New York City and Owner and Head of R & D for Stark International was found Monday March 26th 2018 having drowned in his bath. Authorities are currently investigating but it is believed to be accidental. **

* * *

_**Monday March 26th 2018** _

Tony stared at the glass of bourbon in his hand. He knew he should have given up alcohol entirely, it is a depressant. It only makes you think about all of the things in your life you hate. Makes you mull, think and ruminate. Never about the good times. It is an escape, a place to run to. Somewhere to hide, but it’s a false lie. Like hiding on a stage. With those bright lights in your face, you can’t see all the people looking at you. Judging you.

He downed the glass and refilled it.

“Boss, Are you sure you should be drinking any more?” FRIDAY’s tone sounded concerned, but Tony was thinking too hard to notice. These days he barely slept, the knowledge that a massive armada was out there somewhere, probably on its way to earth had been troubling him for years. That and every single thing he’s done to try to prepare the earth for it has failed.

He downed this glass and refilled it.

First there was the Iron Legion, sure it started out good, but in the end it had to be dismantled.

He savored the burn running down his throat as he emptied this glass. He didn’t respond to FRIDAY’s voice. Stopped paying attention to the world outside of his head. He did pause when he noticed that the bottle of bourbon only had enough for a partial glass. He poured it anyway and left the bottle on the low table in front of him.

Next, there was Ultron. He wanted,... no _needed_ there to be something on a global scale. As with everything he touched, that too turned into a giant mess.

This time he sipped the half glass a little slower. He didn’t want to mix liquors and knew that was the last bottle of bourbon.

Then the accords. Oh god what a mess that was. He couldn’t even think of it at the moment, he needed that drink. 

Tony slowly stood, the world spinning and dragging, trying to tear him down and back onto the couch. After it gently settled to the correct way up, Tony slowly moved to the bar and grabbed the first bottle his hands came across. He looked back toward the couch and just stared at the distance it was. He rested against the wall and slid down. Maybe here was a nice spot. He skipped the glass this time and took a swig. 

“Huh” he nearly whispered. It was whiskey. Maybe he should stop.

The momentary thought was crushed beneath the resurgence of guilt and pain and fear he had felt as he remembered the moment Steve, _Captain America_ had slammed that cursed shield through the arc reactor and left him in that cold bunker in Siberia. He shivered and took another swig as he remembered the cold, the frostbite the pain and the fear as he was stuck on his back, unable to open the suit, unable to move anything but his head and was only able to pray that FRIDAY would be able to get help to him before he died. 

He shivered again as his thoughts continued on, on to all of the people that had died in that stupid “Civil War” the people in Slovakia, the people in Germany. They were just some of the souls on his conscience. He took another swig of the whiskey. 

Then, over the course of this last couple months, he and Pepper, they’d been getting better. He’d given up the Iron Man. But he knew… _knew_ there was a giant armada coming and he’d given up on saving everyone. Last night, he’d had a dream. Dreamt that Pepper was pregnant. They were going to have a little girl and the guilt tore at him. The guilt of his happiness at the expense of the world’s. 

“No” he whispered irritably and threw the whisky bottle across the room. He should go to bed, sleep off the alcohol, but his thoughts, they kept circling. Why should he be happy, he’s given up on the world, he wasted the chance Yinsen gave him. He’s been selfish and irresponsible.

He slowly pulled himself up from the clutches of the ground. It was a fierce battle. Gravity wasn’t playing fair, it kept trying to pull him from the side so he’d come back to the ground. 

Why should he live? He’d already messed up this chance. He was a waste of space and every time he tried he destroyed those he loved and cared about. He swayed a bit as he leaned against the wall. 

“Boss?” FRIDAY’s voice penetrated his haze, but it was too much effort to respond. Instead he stared out the windows of the room. The New York skyline completely change from the battle in 2012. 

If he was going to die, to kill himself. He’d need to do it in a way that they couldn’t fix it. He pondered. Throwing himself off the building had too high chance of survival. People’d done it many times before. Especially when inebriated like he was now. Something about relaxing the muscles helped prevent a lot of the damage. He giggled a bit. The sky was overcast this evening.

He also couldn’t do it because FRIDAY might be able to contact someone before he could finish the job. He didn’t want that. Couldn’t use a gun or a knife for the same reason. Suddenly large raindrops appeared on the window.

“Huh” he muttered. The rain gave him an idea. Drowning was quite the possibility. His lungs were weak enough that he wouldn’t even have aspirate much water into his lungs. It’d even have the benefit of being an accident. It’d probably hurt like the dickens, but he was drunk, it wouldn’t matter. Good think he has a history of taking a bath in the evening to relax after a full day of working. He gave a slight scoffing laugh before dragging himself towards the bathroom.

He turned on the taps, but didn’t pay attention to which one or what the temperature was, just that the tub started filling. 

He sat back to think as he watched the water line.

“Boss, Are you sure that’s a good idea?” FRIDAY’s voice broke into his fugue state.

“It’ll be fine baby girl,” he said, trying to put as much cheer into his voice as he could. The idea of writing a note suddenly hit, but he discounted it. FRIDAY would be able to stop him. He’d designed her and taught her too well. It was probably better for everyone him going this way. He figured it would be a freak accident. People would be shocked, but as soon as he got a lungful of water, it would take more than a minute for a rescue to get to him. That was plenty of time to, if not kill him, damage him to the point he wouldn’t be able to hear his own thoughts. Especially if he took a nice big breath when he went under.

The water reached a good fill spot so he turned off the taps. For a moment he paused. He’d only turned on the cold water. Well, that’s the way it is. With one last smirk at the world, he stepped into the luxurious tub and sat down. The water hit him like a truck. He gasped, his heart started racing, it skipped some beats, his vision started graying out as his torso fell back into the tub. He never felt the pain of breathing in the water. Never had to wake up again.

**Author's Note:**

> Oh Kay.... I have no idea where most of this came from (other than spending waaay too much time researching timelines and haunting the CDC website for accidental drowning statistics)


End file.
